


Fifth Year

by moaningmyrtle



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: First Love, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-12 15:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7939126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moaningmyrtle/pseuds/moaningmyrtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Could you imagine- who on earth could fancy Potter?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

The truth about it all, about birth and death and family and every significance on the way, was that magic had absolutely nothing to do with it. Even a muggle dealt with pain, with mourning, with overwhelming happiness and misery and the need to feel loved, to love. It was nothing more than human, and without or with a wand, life was messy. It was a chaotic and ongoing circle of mistakes and bad decisions and the occasional moment where a lesson was learned. 

 

Magically talented or not, stress, panic, and self doubt also seemed unavoidable. It followed people like a magnet, a constant reminder that there was something else you should be doing, something that you should know with more surety, another reason to clutter your mind with 'what ifs,' and 'I cant's.'

 

"It makes proper sense that it'd be raining today."

 

If Albus were being honest with himself, he'd actually never minded a storm. It was an excuse to stay inside and bundle himself beneath blankets, listen to the thunder through a window and watch the rain fall along the glass. Yet something told him that even if the sun were to come through the clouds at this exact moment, bright and warm, it still wouldn't do a thing for his mood. 

 

The weather couldn't change the amount of times he'd been reminded of his upcoming year-five examination, as though he could've possibly forgot. As if he wasn't well aware, as if he hadn't been studying for two years already and the stress of his own grades weren't weighing on his shoulders like a ton of bricks.

 

"It's Scotland," Scorpius squinted through the storm, watching his unbalanced steps over the glossy cobblestone while they attempted to share an umbrella designed for one. A couple made a point of completely avoiding their path, but it was second nature to ignore the stares shot their way, a factor of their lives that had become a background, something they could tune from focus, "What'd you expect?"

 

"Nothing less, I suppose," Albus shoulders rose with a shrug while he shook a few raindrops from his curls, hurrying beneath the overhang of the courtyard and slipping his wand from the inside of his damp robe, "Reducio." 

 

The umbrella shrunk in size, so small that he could tuck it inside a pocket. Magic didn't come as naturally to him as it did his father, as it did his best friend, but simple tricks made the days a little easier; it wasn't simple tricks that he needed in order to receive the grades expected of him, he needed perfection.

 

Perfection didn't come without hard work, and it wasn't only his own thoughts that seemed crowded with the pressure of the upcoming exam; the grey clouds appeared to reflect every fifth year as they hurried to their classes with quick feet and frowns. The more strict the teachers became, the less enthusiastic the students grew, the harder it was to show up to class with a positive attitude and the desire to learn even more. 

 

Everyone, it appeared, except for Scorpius. They stopped for a moment to shuffle their textbooks neatly in their arms, "How do you handle it? The classes, the never-ending work-" 

 

A smile spread like a beam across porcelain skin, because despite his constant anxiety, Scorpius knew what he was doing. He could read through an entire novel in a matter of hours, memorise spells like he'd been born with nothing but a long term memory, impress teachers with no more than a few words- he was truly brilliant, something that most didn't have to chance to know. 

 

Just as he'd begun to form some semblance of an answer, a broad shouldered student walked into his side without a hint of hesitation, sending his notes like litter across the stone floor. It wasn't the first time, wouldn't be the last, and Albus spun around with anger burning inside his chest like a gasoline torched fire, "Oh, bugger off!"

 

A response of laughter followed as the student met with a group of others, looking back with amusement bright in their eyes, as if it were just a game. 

 

Kneeling down as they piled scattered papers into a stack, Albus added it to his own before they stood, praying they wouldn't draw anymore unwanted attention. Back when they'd been young and naive, the treatment used to seem less aggressive, simply whispers behind their back and the occasional finger pointed in their direction. It was different now, as though no one cared whether they knew that they were nothing more than a reason to laugh, to spread rumours, to wholly ruin Hogwarts for both.

 

"Forget it- we're going to be late."

 

Mumbling something down at his polished school shoes, Scorpius stood up and if there'd been a hint of positivism in his attitude, it was lost. They pushed through the crowds in a shared silence and towards the staircases, not meeting a single gaze on the way. 

 

"I certainly didn't miss that over the holiday," Albus nudged him in the side, attempting a weak willed smile as they furthered up the steps. There was a blurry film on every tiled glass window they passed, a distant rumble of the storm somewhere outside the protected castle walls, calming enough to bring his temper back to a low simmer. 

 

The confession slipped from his lips before Scorpius had censored himself, sounding much more genuine than he'd surely intended for, "You're the only thing I'd missed, really." 

 

"Not the library?" 

 

A moment passed as he considered the suggestion, laughing a second later and lightly shoving Albus towards the classroom door, "Sure. That, too." 

 

Arriving last was a specialty they'd perfected, and Albus shoved the door open to find the expectant eyes on them as though they'd walked in with three heads each. The whole ordeal made him feel as though he had some sort of fame, but they both knew it was bad popularity, the kind where everyone knew your name but no one wanted to say it out loud. Not much of a challenge recently to pretend that no one was watching, Scorpius stared around for an empty seat until he'd noticed all the desks had been shoved aside and each student had instead found a place along the wall.

 

Directly in front of the teachers podium was an ominously large, antique wooden chest; why couldn't they stare at that?

 

"It's a boggart," There was that familiar tone of excitement, one that returned whenever Scorpius realized he'd be using more than just a quill and ink, whispering over his shoulder as they lingered near the back of the room. Peering ahead, Albus noticed that the aged box was locked with heavy chains and shook like they'd trapped a beast inside a cage, "I just know it- I've read about them. They stay hidden in dark spaces, like to be confined, can only be fought with-"

 

"Scorpius," Professor Chang had been staring directly across the room, her eyes narrow and although her tone was soft, it wasn't hard to notice the stiffness in her posture, the way she'd refused to continue without silence, "Now- can anyone tell me what they think that this is?"

 

Faster than anyone could've registered, Scorpius hand shot up far above his head. A few others followed his lead, and she chose instead one of the shyest students in the group. Surely enough, it was a boggart, a type of magic that could form into any given person's most dreaded phobia- Albus wasn't surprised that he'd been right, he was always right. 

 

"And the spell we use to fend off the allusion is riddikulus. Are we understood?" A series of nods and mumbled confirmation echoed in response, before Chang began to wave a long, thin wand at the locks and raised her voice, "Now, form a line and have your wands at the ready."

 

The idea that Albus' worst fear would be shown to an entire class caused his stomach to twist like a damp towel being rung out over a sink. Dozens of concepts came to mind, the worst of which being a giant, spinning time turner. Grabbing his arm with more enthusiasm than anyone else was displaying, Scorpius pulled them to the front of the queue and stood behind two others while the professor unlatched the last chain. 

 

"Remember, 'riddikulus.' Now," She stepped back and smiled, "Are you ready?"

 

The student in front shook her head, clearly nervous, and raised her wand.

 

All at once, the top flew open and black smoke rose out as though it'd been fighting to do so for years and years. The entire line took a step back and watched as the smoke formed a mattress, an average bed, and Albus' furrowed his eyebrows; it didn’t seem like anything to be afraid of, unless maybe you dealt with insomnia. A loud grumble came from beneath the furniture, and a large, bony hand began to creep out beneath the frame. 

 

Just as the hand reached out, a sunken face that could've given anyone nightmares began to follow and a loud 'riddikulus' echoed the classroom. The legs on the bed broke and squished whatever it was beneath it's weight, and laughter erupted throughout the room.

 

"Good, perfect! Next!" 

 

The smoke then formed a black cloud, instantly shooting lightning and thunder from it's ominously large mass, and Albus quickly realized the student was afraid of storms. A touch of pity fell through the class as a few gazed out a window and saw that it hadn't stopped outside, and now it was inside too. Not a second after she'd shouted out the magic word, the heavy rain changed into sweets wrapped in brightly colored paper and the lightning into long stands of licorice.

 

"You've got this," Albus squeezed Scorpius' shoulder, as though he needed the vote of confidence and watched as he stepped foreword with bright eyes and heart beating quick. A part of his mind, one he discouraged from becoming too curious, caused a hint of anticipation into finding out his best friend's phobia- spiders, bugs, roller coasters, maybe it was flying on a broom. 

 

The fog moved slower this time, and faded into what looked a lot like a hospital cot, white sheets in a white room on a white floor. It didn't take further action before Albus knew what had happened, what the boggart had formed, and it wasn't a bug nor a broom. Beneath the sheets, the figure of a woman's body curled into the mattress and a few students looked away, nearly uncomfortable after they'd realised what he feared most. 

 

Scorpius' mother, as ill as she'd ever been and calling out for her only son, her voice desperate as a hand reached out through the fabric. Before the scene could play out, however, Scorpius lifted an unsteady wand and spoke surprisingly clear and with more confidence than anyone had shown yet.

 

"Riddikulus!" 

 

The hospital room instantly rearranged itself into Zonko's Joke Shop, full of candy and spinning toys and tools made for the troublesome pranks. A sense of relief flooded through Albus' mind until he'd watched Scorpius step aside and noted that the mist was now his alone, surely reading his mind and deciding on a fear that even he couldn't have expected.

 

It wasn't a monster nor an object, no sign of a time turner or the countless other things he'd been playing over in his mind.

 

"Scorpy," Albus mumbled beneath his breath, because the dark vapor was growing into no one other than his best friend. 

 

But it wasn't Scorpius that he'd been scared of, it was a certain woman who'd nearly ruined their entire lives, the lives of everyone else in the name of the Dark Lord. A bright red bolt shot through the classroom, and Delphi's faraway voice echoed the room, "Crucio!"

 

An exact clone of Scorpius was instantly shook with pain, hit by a spell that every fifth year student knew was only as bad as two others, two that were unmentionable. An unforgivable curse had caused him to collapse on the floor, one that Albus had watched her cast with no sense of shame, threatening to kill the only friend he'd ever had. 

 

Breaking down to his knees, the agony was just as clear on Scorpius' expression as it'd been that day, lost in a maze thirty years before their date. It was at this time that Albus knew he should've lifted his wand and fought back, but he'd become paralyzed, could feel his blood rushing faster by the second, his chest pounding and his hands twitching with the need to rush forward and save him from his own fate. 

 

'It's not real.' The phrase repeated over and over, just as it did when the achingly painful memory woke him in the dead of night- even in his own nightmares, he'd never saved Scorpius, always forced to watch as he writhed on the ground with his hands wrapped desperately around his own body. Haunting laughter rung through his mind, Delphi taunting his as she tossed his body across the ground, causing his skin to itch and mind to spin. 'But I love him,' he'd screamed, countless times, 'He's all I have! Please, stop!' 

 

"Riddikulus!" 

 

It wasn't Albus that spoke; the class watched while Scorpius rushed to stand directly in front of the version of himself that seemed tragically near to losing the fight, the clone reacting like nothing had ever gone wrong, wiped the dust from his robes, and faded back into a plume of exhaust.

 

No one laughed. 

 

"Alright, class," The professor met Albus' stare and he couldn't decide whether it was sympathy or concern that she was failing to hide, waving the line forward as though anyone would stay focused on the lesson now, "Don't think you're finished just yet- Rudy, you!" 

 

With lungs that felt as though they might collapse and knees close to shaking so violently that they'd bring him to the floor, Albus waited only until the next student stepped ahead before rushing from the front of the class and out the large set of doors, closing just as murmurs began to follow. Panic smothered his thoughts and an earthquake shook in every muscle, every bone, able to do nothing but rest his entire weight against the brick wall, palm over his chest as he wheezed for a hint of air. 

 

The door opened for a second time and the hushed insults crept through the momentary crack, Albus left with no other choice than to ignore it. Loud bells rung in his ears and his head spun so severely that the only way to remain balance was to cover his eyes; a gentle hand slid over his own, "Albus, are- are you okay? It's not real."

 

"But it was. Before, it was real." 

 

"Come on, breathe," Scorpius moved closer as though they'd formed an orbit long ago, one that drew him nearer each time they'd stray too far from the axis. With some resemblance of composure returning, he curled his fingers around unsteady hands, holding tighter while Albus did the best that he could to slow his pulse and shake the image from the forefront of his mind, "I'm fine, look at me. Look, see? I'm brilliant." 

 

It wasn't much of a mystery to him, why that moment in time had become his deepest fear. It wasn't a question of what he'd seen, but what he would've lost. So extremely brave in the moment, Scorpius hadn't begged out for his life, hadn't called out for help nor blamed Albus for what he'd gone through. That was a burden he took upon himself, and yet he would've rather died at his side than lived on in a world where there was only one left standing. 

 

"Yeah," Their fingers were still intertwined when Albus looked up, loosely but there, noting now that it'd gone on longer than usual. Usual, as in they'd done this before, held each other's hands time and again and spoke nothing of it- there was no extent to just how often he'd ignored the matter at hand, brushing aside the insistent question of why Scorpius caused his stomach to flutter in a way that no one else ever had. 

 

It was a nervous, jumpy type of butterfly that caused his skin to warm like he'd baked beneath the sun, and it stifled any remaining fear with a different loss of nerve, one that forced a smile across his face while his legs shook for an unrelated reason, "Yeah, you're brilliant."

-

There wasn't much that warranted discussion, not much that he didn't understand, and the night passed on sharing a mutual and somewhat comfortable silence. Maybe what he'd feared was a confession he wasn't prepared to acknowledge, a chance that it'd come off a touch pathetic, but pretending as though it'd never happened wasn't an option. The cat had officially been let from the box, if the cat was his best friend and the box was a boggart that clearly didn't take his social status into consideration. 

 

Rumors had spread like wildfire, that Albus was imagining Scorpius' death or that they'd experimented with the unforgivable curses and hadn't been caught. All the bouncing theories were laughable at most, but the truth being that he couldn't live without his best friend wasn't any less embarrassing, maybe just a little easier to deny. Deny if he could, and yet no one walked anywhere near them that night, and instead treated the two like zoo animals behind a fence, a sign that says 'don't feed' handing over the chain. 

 

"Can we just go," Albus mumbled as their backs roasted against the flames dancing wildly in the fireplace, sharing the common room with a group of other students who'd decided swapping conspiracy theories about Potter's boggart was of much more importance than studying; even Scorpius hadn't brought it up, the topic leaving behind an elephant large enough to fill the west wing of the castle, "Please." 

 

"Just so you're all very much aware," Scorpius was standing before Albus had the chance to ask further, raising his voice so loud that everyone turned his way with wide eyes and raised brows, the way they might look at a teacher who's about to begin a lecture; he had that way about him, primarily when he was angry, such a power that you couldn’t look away, "You're bloody horrible. All of you- at least Albus wasn't scared of some clown faced mattress monster or a god damn storm. How old are you, twelve?"

 

"Scorpy-" Albus' could feel his skin grow hot and the fire had no contribution, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his robes. A part of him wanted to cheer his friend on but another just really wished to stop being the subject of conversation and this wouldn't help their cause, not when a few of the boys snickered in the back and whispered something that sounded like 'his boyfriend.'

 

They both stiffened, shoulders tight, before rushing up to the stairs and into where their dorm was still quiet and empty a half hour before curfew. Four beds were pushed into each corner of the room, and Albus and Scorpius had claimed ownership of the two shoved against the wall with the view out over the moonlit water surrounding Hogwarts. Despite its personal history of causing them both a great deal of misery, there was no denying the beauty of the school grounds, the tall towers and brick walls as if they'd created the castle from a fairy tale. 

 

"All of them, they're just absolutely insufferable," Scorpius was ranting through a clenched jaw and grinding teeth, fists curled against his side as if he could ever actually fight anyone- maybe, possibly, in a debate club or during a chess match. Pacing the room on an invisible path, Albus sat back on his mattress and ran a hand through his own hair, listening on as his best friend fought for his metaphorical honor, "Can you believe? If any of those morons had done research, they'd know it wasn't as if you had a choice, as if you could choose what showed up. Do they even read? I mean, what if Rudy's boggart had been forcing him to watch his girlfriend-" 

 

Forced to watch his girlfriend being tortured.

 

Just as Albus unwillingly watching his boyfriend racked the pain of the cruciatus curse, unable to do a thing about it, unable to fight or beg or perform a simple spell, apparently. Or whatever the equivalent of girlfriend was, whatever they were that made staying together so damn important. 

 

"Or, you know," Scorpius redirected his gaze blankly out the window, his voice growing immediately softer and more timid as he turned away. A second passed before the lump in his throat disappeared and he wandered back to his best friends mattress, sat down beside him and built up the nerve to continue, "Have you ever thought about that, what happened to me, before today? I mean, was it just something that had come back up without warning?" 

 

"I dream of it, sometimes," Albus began to play a game of thumb of war with himself, twitchy and needing to keep his hands busy before he were to do something stupid like grab someone else's, "A little more than sometimes. A few times a week. Don't freak out-"

 

"Going back to Voldemort's world kept me awake nearly every day of this holiday," Scorpius let slip a laugh, although it held no hint of humor, dry and relatable- they'd sent a few letters with every other fortnight that passed, nothing lengthily enough to talk in detail about all that they'd been through or what it'd done to their sanity, "Not because he's absolutely terrifying, but because you're- you don't exist there, in that time or place or universe." 

 

Footsteps began to echo up the stairs, the remaining two roommates yelling about finding something in their suitcase and something else about fire whiskey and students hiding out in the prefects bathroom. It was all quite rebellious, and yet neither found themselves remotely jealous of the concept.

 

"Damn it," Scorpius mumbled, pointing his wand up without second thought, "Mobiliarbus." 

 

The dark green silk curtains that trailed the four posts of the bed swung shut in a moment, and they both inched backwards from the end so that their feet weren't peeking out from beneath the fabric. There wasn't any reason to hide, just easier to avoid conversation. Leaning back into a pillow and stretching his legs out over Albus' lap, they waited as the footsteps eventually echoed into their dorm. 

 

"Just grab that-" Sean seemed to have cut himself off, as though something else had caught his attention; assuming that he'd just gone to bed early, their roommate lowered his voice and stifled a laugh, "Shit- so you think Potter's finally off his rocker?" 

 

A moment passed as they shared a look, one that neither boy could see but assumed it was the same as every other, like everyone else knew them better than they knew themselves. It didn't matter that they'd never shared a word, people didn’t care about anything other than the gossip- getting to know either of them might ruin their horribly mistaken perception. 

 

"No doubt," The other one, Matthew, responded in less of a whisper as though it didn't matter to him if Albus were to wake up and overhear their conversation, "Amanda told me she watched it all happen, said she'd thought he was quite a handsome bloke before he'd made an absolute fool of himself. Could you imagine- who on earth could fancy Potter?" 

 

It was nearly instantaneous that Scorpius sat up, reaching for the curtain at the exact moment that Albus blocked him from doing so. Blowing their cover now wouldn't do any good, just validate the fact that they'd surely got their point across- if he'd had any semblance of a chance before, it'd been lost during fifth period. The embarrassment that he'd managed to push to the back of his mind now came rushing forward like a tidal wave, causing his eyes to burn with tears that had been threatening his composure since the moment he'd seen his boggart. Their insults didn't hit quite as hard when it was so clearly nonsense, but when Albus was forced to wonder if what he'd said was true-

 

"Al. They're both absolute gits." 

 

Two sets of footprints hurdled down the spiral staircase and they were left in near silence, apart from Albus trying not to sniffle and Scorpius tugging at his arm, attempting to bring his attention back to reality and look up from his own lap. 

 

"Sure," Albus' tone came out sharper than he'd ever sounded, swallowing a lump in his throat and finding that he could just as easily replace it with bitter anger, substituting one shitty and unwanted emotion for another, "That doesn't mean they aren't right. I mean, really- I'm never going to meet someone if everyone looks at me like I'm nothing but a tosser. We're in fifth year and we've never even kissed-" 

 

"Albus," He'd interrupted him before he could finish complaining, sounding more frustrated than he had when he'd gone off on everyone around the common room. It took him a second, sitting there as if contemplating his arguments direction and Albus looked just as scared as he'd been during class, or maybe slightly less, "You're so-" 

 

It was surprising to find that his best friend was at a loss for words, something that so rarely happened it caused Albus' eyebrows to pull together. Unsure if he was going to get yelled at or walked out on, he braced himself for either and received none. 

 

Fingers brushed along his jaw as Scorpius moved foreword without warning or explanation, the mattress sinking into the spot where he'd fell so close that their noses touched, and closed the distance. With lips pressed firmly against his, Albus found himself in a momentary shock, completely stiff. The realisation sunk in a second later that he'd been kissed on purpose, that Scorpius' had meant to wrap gentle fingers over the short stubble along his jaw and move so close he could smell his cologne, hear a pounding beneath his chest. It wasn't an accident, he wasn't dreaming, and he was kissing back.

 

Time seemed to take on entirely different theory. Wrapping his grip behind Scorpius neck, shivers rushed through his body at the mere brush of his hair against his arm, pulling him closer, aching for less space between them. Every movement seemed so easy, lips that practically danced as they moved with one another. It was like they'd always known how, like despite it being completely new, it was somehow natural. 

 

They'd shuffled so near that Scorpius was nearly on his lap, and it wasn’t until the quietest of moans slipped off Albus' tongue that reality seemed to come crashing back down. 

 

Where Scorpius' hands had been suddenly felt cold and bare as he pushed back the curtains and practically crossed the entire room, like if he didn't separate himself, he might never stop. Feeling like he'd never really, truly seen him before this moment, Albus let his own gaze absently tracing his ruffled blonde hair, wide eyes a deep, swimming grey and porcelain skin pinching red in the cheeks; they stared at each other, breathless and unsure with a few questions left hanging in the air.

 

"There," Scorpius was nearly panting, straightening his robes and finding it hard to meet Albus' insistent stare for more than half of a second at a time, "You've snogged someone."

 

Before Albus had the chance to form a coherent sentence, as if he even could, Scorpius was grabbing his shower basket from the top of his dresser and hurrying from the room faster than he'd lunged forward to plant a kiss. Sitting straight up, hair surely a horrid mess and robes hanging loosely over his shoulder, he listened absently as the patter of feet faded towards the bathrooms and tried to grasp some sense of what had just happened. 

 

Never had he been one to dream big, to let his mind wander to far from reality; Albus didn't consider himself naïve, knew that he shouldn't hope for too much or he'd be sorely disappointed a majority of the time.

 

A stream of thought made from logic and reason said to him the obvious explanation- he'd been kissed in an attempt to shut him up, to quiet his needless complaining and prove to him that first times weren't as important as he'd made them out to be. Another part of him, a part that didn’t often speak up at all, nudged Albus towards a very dangerous idea.

 

Who on earth could fancy a Potter?


	2. Chapter Two

For the first time in months, he wasn't in the maze.

 

 

It wasn’t that Albus didn't know he was asleep, just that he couldn't wake himself up no matter how heavy he ached for reality. Lucid dreaming was what the nurse had told him, that the only applicable spell might cause him to never have another dream again and that was enough to crawl back into his bed and close his eyes. Nightmares were surely preferable over darkness, because on the rarest of nights, sometimes his imagination took another direction he didn't want to lose.

 

 

No red lights, no wands, no curse. The room was his own, the dorm that he'd grow to call home for all but three months of each year, feet away from the man who'd caused his world to spin with only a kiss.

 

 

'Do it again,' He'd flashed a cheeky grin, staring over at where his best friend was sitting on the edge of his own mattress not far from the other. There was no one else in the room, no one to catch them as Scorpius stood up and trailed the room as if he hadn't taken a step, floating over the emerald green rugs. Inches away and so close that Albus was sure this was all real, he'd all at once disappeared. Slipping through his outstretched hand like sand on the beach, he called out for him but it was too late and everything faded so dark that not even the room was left behind.

 

 

Muffled and far away, the chime of a bell sounded in his ears and the dream was gone along with his hope that it'd be real this time, suddenly looking at only the inside of his eyelids. Sunlight came pouring in through the windows, no curtains to hang over a late morning light. Accompanied by a ringing bell, it was all too much to handle this early on a Saturday.

 

 

The bed across from his was empty, and Albus noticed this before he'd even had a second to look at the time and decide whether or not to stay awake. With sheets folded the same way they were day after day, pillows fluffed and pajamas stacked atop the comforter, Scorpius had clearly made a clean break for it before anyone had a chance to ask him where it was he'd gone. The crinkle of paper brought Albus from a groggy morning frustration, rolling over to find that he'd crumpled a note left beside his head as he'd been dreaming of the night before.

 

 

Handwriting impeccably done as always, there was no need for a signature and Scorpius seemingly knew this, writing only six words on a sheet torn from his notebook. It took Albus a moment to decipher it if were some sort of practical joke, as if he might jump out from behind the furniture at any given moment- _'Gone to Hogsmeade with Rose. Sorry.'_

 

 

"With Rose?" Albus muttered down at the paper, swinging his feet over the side of the bed while he read the note again and again, tracing his fingers over the words as if they might reveal a hidden message printed beneath the nonsense. It was all wrong, twisted like he'd used a time turner and someone had caused a wrinkle in history; they'd never taken a school trip without the other, Rose had never joined, and Scorpius had never left him alone like this before.

 

 

Scorpius had never kissed him before, either.

 

 

The cheers and hollers of all the students who'd woken with more enthusiasm than Albus could be heard from a ditance, grouping together under the clock tower and surely handing their permission slips to the headmistress, prepared to escape from the stress of school for an afternoon and sneak a drink or two while they were at it. Tucked away beneath a mess of papers and books atop his dresser, Harry's father had written a note with a casual hello to McGonagall in the corner like old friends do, along with a short memo regarding Albus' freedom.

 

 

If he waited any longer, he'd be shooed off to the library with students who'd forgot to bring proof of permission or preferred not to visit, those of which there was very few. However, his routine had become quite simple after five years. Pajamas off and trousers on, replacing the robes for a dark green sweater, a touch more casual than the usual uniform, and pairing the outfit with unpolished black shoes and a brush through unmanageable curls. Reaching atop his dresser, Albus sprayed himself with just a hint of cologne labelled Dark Forest and decided that anything else would've been overkill.

 

 

Staring back over his shoulder, it became impossible to ignore the night before, the memory rushing over him with a hurricane of conflicting emotion and none of which he knew what to do with. It was as though his fantasies, ones that he's previously refused to acknowledge, had come to life and now he craved another, a dozen more. It was obvious to him that he shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as he did, shouldn't have spent the night imagining a scenario where Scorpius hadn't run from the room with his shower caddy in hand, where he'd stayed and they'd lost themselves to the electricity that had sparked beneath their skin.

 

 

Mumbling as he tripped over his own clumsy feet, Albus hurried through the empty halls with two different notes in his pocket, searching down each hall and out every window. Locks as blonde as the sun at golden hour, scarf folded over broad shoulders in a way that no one else did, Scorpius was like a beacon in a dark room and he could've picked him out of a crowd of a thousand, yet it seemed as though he'd gone before he'd had the chance.

 

 

"Albus," McGonagall was standing with only a few students left lulling around the courtyard, all of which looked his way for a moment as he pushed through the arch, holding in a gasp as if he hadn't just run from the other side of the castle. The headmistress flashed him a small smile, one that was often pinched with pity and sympathy that he'd grown to ignore, and waved him towards where she stood on the step, as powerful and intimidating as she always was, "Late this morning, aren't we?"

 

 

The alarm he'd grown to depend on, one that commonly shook his shoulders with a gentle whisper and coerced him to class each morning, wasn't there when he'd woken both late and confused. However, today was a one off and Albus was sure of it, and tomorrow they'd fall back into the normal routine; digging through his pocket for the sheet that his father had signed, he met McGonagall on the stairs and handed her a crumpled paper, trying not to appear as sheepish as he felt, "Sorry. I slept in and-"

 

 

"This," McGonagall's eyes were narrow as she flipped the note over, as if looking for something that wasn't there; Albus fished his hand around his pocket and pulled from it a second slip, the one that he'd meant for the headmistress and not the other that he'd kept to hand back to Scorpius. The embarrassment almost compared to the failure of losing his nerve against a boggart, "Isn't what I'm looking for. Although very sweet, this will not get you into Hogsmeade."

 

 

"It's not sweet," Albus tugged it from her hands and replaced it with the other, frowning while she smiled at the friendly hello from his parents. There was no forgetting that his father had practically run this school when he'd been a student, made an impression on everyone with a wand and even in this exact courtyard, a plaque nailed to the brick recorded the time he'd fought Voldemort and crumbled building to the ground. There was numerous wizards that had come to Hogwarts's immediate rescue, one of them being Harry himself, selfless and generous and willing to help even after he'd saved countless lives- he'd been a hero, and he was reminded each and every day.

 

 

A smile rarely seen soon faded as she waved her wand over the note and Albus watched it disappear, wondered for a moment where she'd brought it too as he turned away. The crowd seemed more dense further up the long winding path but it didn't seem worth it anymore to run, no rush as the realization began to sink in that if Scorpius had wanted him to join, he wouldn't have tip toed from the room in fear of having him follow.

 

 

His reasoning was more than foggy with the night before, making it a challenge to feel angry or guilty or anything at all, wanting to believe he'd done something wrong to cause the drift but he hadn't been the one who'd reached foreword with warm lips and fingers along his skin. It wasn't Albus who'd hidden behind the curtains of his bed and pressed their bodies close together, who'd made it hard to see their friendship in a way that didn't cause his chest to swell and mind to swim. It wasn't him, so why was he the one who'd been left behind?

 

 

It was a memory that had once been a figment of his own imagination, a scene that occasionally crept into his late-night thoughts, one that fell way beyond reality and only returned when Albus was completely alone, allowing himself to picture a situation that could never form without magic. Even with a wand in hand, wizarding tricks couldn't have given him the confidence to kiss his best friend, to finally admit to himself that there'd been a hole in his heart that he wasn't sure he'd ever fill, one that Scorpius had dug himself.

 

 

"Albus!"

 

 

"Lily," An unintentional sigh slipped from Albus' lips as his sister hurried beside him kicking orange and red leaves with tall brown boots and a robe that nearly swept the ground, frowning as she looked beside and behind her brother as if he'd forgot his own shadow. Ignoring her confusion, he nudged her shoulder and faked a smile, "How's Gryffindor?"

 

 

In through one ear and out another, he might as well have stayed silent as Lily stared back up at Albus, eyebrows drawn together like she'd been stumped by a challenging question on a test; Albus wished he was still being given the tests handed out in year three, sure that now they'd seem like child's play, "Where's your friend? What'd you do?"

 

 

"I didn't do anything," Albus scoffed and bumped into her, sending Lily stumbling over her own boots and shooting a glare back at her older brother. A chilly breeze blew through the air and caused them both to wrap their arms around their own chests, closing in on each other as they pushed through a group of students who barely looked their way, "Anyways, where's yours?"

 

 

"Studying," She'd grumbled and pushed a strawberry curl from her face, her bottom lip peeking out into a pout. It wasn't as though the were preparing for an end-of-the-year test, one that would decide if they'd passed or failed the last five years of their life, and Albus rolled his eyes at the thought of missing their first Hogsmeade trip for something so amateur, "It's quite lovely down here. You've been lots, right?"

 

 

The village was something magical, and Albus peered around, both looking for Scorpius and admiring the view. Autumn leaves scattered the ground, a gravel path winding through old brick buildings with thatched roofs and large front windows on each store, showing off brooms and candy and everything in between. The fences were all built from aging stone, and kids sat on them with their feet swinging, chewing on sweets that made their ears spew smoke and elephant ears replace their own. Laughter and chatter and the traditional Scottish music that rang from each bar made it a challenge for Albus to act as bitter as he'd felt.

 

 

"It's alright," Albus shrugged, his skin warm beneath the too-large sweater as he fought the need to admit that Hogsmeade was his favorite place to go, only made better by the company he now lacked. The presence of his little sister was only a little less worse, who seemed absolutely taken with her own surroundings as she looked left and right and back again, as if struggling to take it all in, "Care to see the shrieking shack?"

 

 

"Haven't you seen it before?"

 

 

"But you haven't," Albus responded as he turned from the main street, taking them to where the fence would stop them and an open field would sit between that and an old shack that held many rumors. All of which had since been proven false, but it was still something to sight see, "Come on, this way."

 

 

The grass looked just as welcoming as the stone when they eventually reached the clearing, and Lily sat back with a grin identical to their mother's, patting the ground next to her. Staring out at the house that now could barely stand, falling apart by the year and yet still spooky none the less, Albus joined her and tried not to think so much about his best friend, about where he was and what he was doing.

 

 

"What's Slytherin like this year?"

 

  
Looking over at Lily, he shook his own taunting thoughts from his mind and attempted to form an answer, one that had nothing to do with Scorpius or the boggart or the fact that the other students still didn't want a thing to do with him. That didn't leave him with anything other than the test, the one they'd started studying for the year before and was surely to drive half of them insane by the end of the year.

 

 

"The N.E.W.T. preparation isn't much fun," Albus laughed, although it was humorless, and dug a chunk of grass from the ground as his laugh faded into a sign. His sister slid a palm over his own, nervous and restless, and met his stare with a look that reminded him of his parents.

 

 

Concern was clearly evident in her expression, holding his hand with the care that only a worried sister could possess, "But you're okay?"

 

 

"I'll be fine," Albus stared out at the open field, wondering if it was time he'd opened up to someone and admitted to another that he'd fallen in love with his best friend, but in the next moment, voices of young girls screaming Lily's name filled the air with noise; she turned with a smile, a wave, "Go- I'll see you soon, alright?"

 

 

She'd gone with a short goodbye, leaving him alone to wipe the grass and dirt from his pants and start the walk back to Hogwarts; there was no shopping he wanted to do, nothing to see, no one to talk to as they killed their free time. Frowning as he pushed past students on his way down the path, Albus refused to meet another student in the eyes, no where near as confident when he was left to his own defenses. It was odd, being alone and feeling like suddenly it wasn't him and Scorpius against the world, it was just him and he surely couldn’t win this battle.

 

 

The streets were full and loud and filled with smiles that Albus couldn’t relate too, would rather not acknowledge as he wondered how he'd been so happy the night before, so giddy and excited, and the next morning he'd woken the complete opposite.

 

 

It was when he'd completely given up hope that Albus looked over his shoulder and through the foggy window of The Three Broomstick's, and spotted the face he'd been searching for since morning. For a quick moment, his heart stopped and Albus stood still, waiting for Scorpius to look up as though they communicated through telepathy.

 

 

No reaction forced Albus to fight the absolute turmoil beneath his ribs and walk through the door, setting off chimes as he did so and wandering straight to where his best friend sat, alone and fingers wrapped around what he assumed was a butter beer- it was the most alcohol they could get before showing a legal ID.

 

 

Staring up at him, Scorpius didn't say a thing but they'd met each other's stare and the memory of the night before was almost immediately played over like a scene from a movie, unable to look away as they both remember what they'd done, how perfect it had felt. A few seconds passed before their stare was broken by Albus, looking down at where his knuckles had grown a shade of purple from the cool air as he coziedd into the worn stool sat next to the table.

 

 

"So, where's Rose?"

 

 

The question didn't surprise Scorpius, shrugging before he'd taken a sip of his drink and stifled a laugh, "Gone. To look at brooms, I think."

 

 

One eyebrow lifted and suspicion heavy in his tone, that and something that most likely resembled jealousy, Albus lowered his voice and asked, "Was it a date?"

 

 

"Rose said no," Scorpius smiled a weak sort of grin, eyes crinkled at the thought, "Or rather insisted it, so I suppose not." 

 

  
A hint of competition disappeared from Albus' mind, knowing that it shouldn't have been there in the first place but it was something he couldn't push from his thoughts, the thought of him and Rose together causing his skin to itch in the oddest way. It was something he'd dealt with since the first year they'd been in Hogwarts, finding Scorpius shamelessly flirting with his Aunt's daughter, jealousy eating at his sanity and his only consolation being her constant rejections.

 

 

Reaching to steal a sip of his best friend's drink, his fingers brushed against Scorpius', light and barely there, and Albus didn't pull away, didn't move an inch. It was warm, comforting; they looked up and both knew it had been too long, that this wasn't something friends did but they didn't hide behind curtains either, didn't kiss in the night or cause moans to roll from swollen lips. It also wasn't considered friendly to dream of the other, to stifle jealousy when they weren't around and to hold their hand at dingy pubs, sharing a stare that caused everything else to fade.

 

 

"So," Scorpius cleared his throat and pulled his hand away, looking down at a wet spot on the table as though it were more distracting than the look that Albus was currently giving him, one that he was sure would cause his stomach to flip a dozen more times, "Did your father write?"

 

 

 

"He has," The bar was quiet now, students clearing out for the time being and leaving them with an almost-silence that forced Albus to lower his voice in lean in closer, wishing that the distance didn't cause his heart to beat quicker, "He asked how we were handling the workload. I didn't know how to tell him that a boggart had me thrown into a panic and I'll probably fail DADA."

 

 

Shaking his head, Scorpius laughed and pushed the drink towards Albus as if consoling him with the small percentage of liquor that they'd been allowed, as though anything would change the fact that he'd made a fool of himself in front of twenty other students and caused a rumor that would surely circulate for months, "Chang won't let it affect your grades. She's too soft."

 

 

Once, before they'd been born and before a world had existed without Voldemort, Chang and Harry had fought together, had practiced together and won together. She wasn't soft, far from it, but Albus hoped she'd let him off easy just this one time- maybe a few more times, depending on how this year went.

 

 

"I never thanked you for taking control," Albus took a small sip before he'd changed the subject, set the glass down with shaking hands and looked over with gratitude that he hadn't been able to express until now, knowing no amount of words could truly be enough to thank him, to show him what it'd meant, "If you hadn't done what you'd done, I might've just kept watching until-"

 

 

"It's just a little more practice," Scorpius shrugged as his eyes wandered, cutting him off before it'd become too serious. The entire boggart situation had lead to the kiss, the instance both were pretending didn't happen, refusing to discuss as if it hadn't thrown them completely off orbit, "Don’t worry about it.

 

 

Slipping his hand over Scorpius' and swallowing the lump in his throat, Albus couldn't fight the urge to make this more than casual, opening his mouth to continue and Scorpius looked down with wide eyes at where he'd rested a warm hand on his own, "Shut it and accept the thank you, alright?"

 

 

"Yeah, right," Scorpius swallowed and tugged his hand out from beneath Albus', immediately sliding off the stool and leaving a half empty glass on the counter before shooting an uncertain and short lived smile back at his friend, "I've got to go- study."

 

 

The words came out jumbled and unprepared and he only watched for a few seconds as Scorpius darted for the exit, not a single look over his shoulder as he did, bumping into the occasional chair or table on his way out. Caught in shock, a moment passed before Albus ran out after him and let the doors swing shut with a bang, the cool air and bright sun blinding him.

 

 

Up the path, Albus broke into a jog and grabbed Scorpius' arm, "Hey, stop-"

 

 

"Albus-"

 

 

Beside the path and between buildings was nothing but trees and stones, Albus tugged him off the main path and into a shaded area where no one could see, no one would find them as he stopped and turned. The look on his best friend's face might've been fear, possibly fear of conflict, but Albus was nearly bursting at the seams and it seemed like any longer and he'd explode with questions, "Last night- what was that?"

 

 

"Nothing, Albus. Forget it."

 

 

Feeling as though he might make a run for it at any given moment, Albus jumped forward and grabbed his wrists, gentle but enough to keep him in one place as he continued, "No, really. Were you just snoggin' me for the fun of it, then?"

 

 

Silence was almost terrifying.

 

 

It was every emotion he could think of bubbling in his heart, confusion and anger, happiness and sadness and the whole spectrum caught in between. With nothing else to do, they shared a look that couldn't possibly convey it all and Albus shoved him back, a tree catching Scorpius' balance as he closed the distance and pressed his lips against the other's, quick and sure. The taste of caramel lingered as he pulled away, not far but enough so that he could breathe, heavy and staggered now as he tried to calm his quickened pulse.

 

 

Before he could gather the courage to try again, Scorpius was pushing Albus back with his palms against his chest; it wasn't rough, not as though he meant it but as though he needed too, because without distance he wouldn't be able to say no, "Why'd you do that?"

 

  
_Because I like you,_ Albus thought, _because I wanted too_. What comes out isn't much of an answer, and they look at each other a minute before the words came tumbling from his tongue, "Why did you?"

 

 

The air was instantly filled with tension, with questions and confusion and electricity that was left unused, as though it was on a circuit that simply looped and powered nothing at all.

 

 

"Scorpius?" A voice caught their attention and both looked towards it, watching as Rose waved from a few feet away, standing on the path alone and without her usual posse of friends at her side, "I knew I heard you- come here."

 

 

It wasn't enough, Albus wasn't finished, but Scorpius didn't think twice before he pushed through the overgrown bush and out to the gravel foot path. Following behind him, he listened as they spoke. Rose asked what they'd been doing, he'd lied and told her they'd thought they'd seen someone, to which Rose demanded that he walk her back to Hogwarts.

 

  
"Albus," Rose called out and tilted her head to the side, much nicer than she'd been to him over the last couple years; he stepped out from the bush and cupped his hand over his ear, "Are you joining us?"

 

 

"You go on," Albus faked a smile, unable to meet Scorpius stare; he couldn't possibly walk beside him and pretend as though he wasn't aching to kiss him again, to ask him why he'd suddenly become so hostile and yet his push felt so weak, his words felt so hollow. They carried on without him and he watched, jealousy boiling beneath his skin once again and wondered what would've changed if they'd never kissed, if nothing had happened at all- it would've all been the same.

 

 

But the same was a sad reality, Albus stuck in his own imagination and picturing a scenario where Scorpius was so much more than his best friend. It was like choosing between horrible and terrible, stifling a love and pretending it didn't exist or realizing that the one you'd confessed wasn't as mutual as you hoped.

 

 

Both weren't preferred, and so Albus spun on his heels and finished the beer they'd left behind, spent the last of his money to buy a few more because there was nothing else he needed more than a touch of numbness and a few hours to stew in his misery.

 

 

-  
  
 

The picture on the wall shook his head as Albus struggled to remember the password, muttering under his breath as he tried to get back in to the Slytherin common room. The woman in the frame looked as though she were near to laughing aloud, serving only to make him more frustrated, cold and tired and in desperate need of the fire that was surely burning only feet away.

 

 

Footsteps behind him caused Albus to move aside, fighting the urge to roll his eyes and cross his arms as a couple students walked past him and faced the frame. One, with boils on his skin and grease in his hair, shot a nasty grin over his shoulder before he spoke, "Tothflossing stringmints. Not your day, eh Potter?"

 

 

"More like not his week," The other student nudged his friend and laughed, looking back while the picture swung open to reveal the entrance; she didn't seem bothered by the teasing, didn't seem to notice at all. It would've taken more energy than he had to fight back alone, and instead Albus pretended he hadn’t heard, as if that might've been remotely possible.

 

 

Snickering echoed the tunnel as he followed a few steps behind them, and although it seemed like every day at Hogwarts was bad, this could've been Albus' worst. Defeat stifled every bit of pride he'd had left, feeling more deflated than he thought was possible, and the numbness he'd been hoping to achieve was more of a dull misery that seemed to gnaw at his heart, stomach, bones.

 

  
Despite it all, despite the rejection and the confusion, a small ray of light seemed to filter through his cloudy mind when he'd straightened and stared up. It was as if his eyes were constantly drawn to Scorpius, as though he was always looking for him, even when he didn't know it. Nose buried between the pages of a textbook and hands tapping atop his own knee, Albus stood sill and watched for a moment, both aware and unbothered by the fact that every student in the fire-lit room could see him as he studied his best friend with both anger and lust, a combination that was nearly impossible to handle.

 

 

There wasn't a chance he'd look up, not when he was reading, so invested in the literature that nothing else mattered. It was the exact way Albus felt at that moment, like nothing else meant a thing when he was in the room, and if he could, he'd devour every chapter.

 

 

"So," Albus sat down next to him, the fabric of the sofa warm, highlighted by the nearby flame and empty because no one dare sat beside a Malfoy. There was no reason for Scorpius to look up, knew who'd sat down by the way he'd thrown himself into the cushion, knew his voice like it was a song he'd played a thousand times; he'd looked up anyway, "Rose and you."

 

 

"Bugger off," Scorpius muttered, but his words didn't sound much like a threat.

 

 

"Seriously," Albus raised his voice just enough so that he'd make a point without calling more attention to themselves, reaching over and closing the textbook on Scorpius' lap. The responding glare was anything but intimidating, and he leaned foreword with a trembling confidence that he didn't know he could summon, "Just tell me why?"

 

 

Scorpius looked as though he were ready to run, not often one to have a quick temper but a redness rose quickly to his skin and there was impatience riddled behind his tone when he spoke, "Tell you what, Albus?"

 

 

"Tell me why you kissed me," Albus was nearly whispering, but Scorpius wide eyed expression would've given it away, a blush to his cheeks and a shake in his hands. A quick look around and he realized everyone had busied themselves, turning back with hitched breath, "Not that I'd never shagged someone, loads of people haven't and their best mates don't go around kissin' them to make up for it."

 

 

"Albus-"

 

  
"Please," Albus didn't beg often, wasn't one to apologize without dire reason and he wasn't the type to come running after someone who'd broken his heart. But maybe his heart wasn't broken, just fallen, and maybe Scorpius wasn't someone he'd let slip without putting up a fight, "You're treating me different, like I've done something wrong, but I don't know what and if you'd just tell me-"

 

 

There was a split second where Scorpius looked as though he was going to do it again, to cause Albus' reality to twist like a rag, leaning so close that he was sure they'd kiss in front of everyone and how could they do that and ever live through the next few years?

 

  
"I wanted too."

 

 

"What?"

 

 

"I wanted too," Scorpius' eyes darted around the room before returning on Albus' furrowed brows and lost look, "Not just yesterday, for- for as long as I can remember. I still want too. I didn't know what to do, I don’t know how to deal with this, with you. You didn't do anything wrong."

 

 

"I did too," Albus nodded, slowly as if trying to sift through the vagueness of his answer. Every part of his body felt as though it'd been washed with electricity, as though he'd been forced to stay still while sparks rose from his skin and bones; it didn't make sense that no one could see what he was feeling, no one could see the relief that had flooded his mind and the delight that he felt even in his toes. It was so obvious, so clearly there when his lips stretched into a wide grin and eyes brightened more than the stars that would soon fill the night sky.

 

 

"I do, still."

 


End file.
